


Just Touching

by ninemoons42



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Sleepiness, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-18
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is always touching Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Touching

  
title: Just Touching  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
pairing: Arthur/Eames  
warnings: Some mention of sexual activity, but mostly this is just about skin-to-skin contact. Written for [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/photoclerk/profile)[**photoclerk**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/photoclerk/) , who is always such an enabler.  
disclaimer: I don't own the original stories, series, or characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.  
summary: Arthur is always touching Eames.

  
Arthur watches Eames closely, these days.

For all Eames weaves and ducks nimbly around the others, he never lets them get within reaching distance. For all he exchanges filthy jokes as easily with Ariadne as with Yusuf, he never actually is there when they slap each other's backs and hang on to each other, screaming with laughter. For all he interacts so well with marks and extractors and neighbors, he's not actually much for touching.

Except in bed, of course. Eames has greed written all over him - greed for Arthur. His hands move like searing brands across Arthur's skin, bared only for him. Those amazing fingers, buried to the knuckles in Arthur's mouth or ass. [Sometimes both at the same time.] The palm of his hand, wet with lube and come, coaxing Arthur's cock back to hardness.

Otherwise, Eames is strangely hesitant. Arthur has seen him stare. In the privacy of a hotel room or of one of their many apartments Arthur makes a point to keep touching him - a casual kiss dropped atop his head in passing from the bedroom to the kitchen, a hand patting his shoulder while Eames watches TV, a brush of foot against calf at breakfast.

Arthur scatters all of these touches freely, his emotions in his smile and in his eyes, and he watches Eames's helpless looks and he's torn between wanting to be angry and wanting to touch Eames even more.

Arthur sighs, and he drops into bed and half-heartedly picks up the book he's been trying to get through - why is it so hard to reread Martin Amis these days? - and he's several pages in when the bed creaks, and gives under someone's weight.

"Eames?" Arthur asks, and he's about to put the book down and roll onto his back when there's a hand placed lightly between his shoulder blades. He stills.

"As you were," Eames says quietly, and Arthur picks up his book and he looks at the words, uncomprehending. The hand ghosts down his spine, pauses at his hip. "Is this okay?"

"I'll make you a deal," Arthur says gently. "I'll safeword if I want you to stop touching me. Until then, do with me what you want."

Pause. A soft snort.

Arthur braces himself.

And then Eames is tracing the dips and bumps of his spine with three fingers, down from his neck and then up again from his ass.

Arthur makes himself relax, but the truth is it takes so little to turn him into a quietly happy puddle on the sheets, and he sighs and leans into it when Eames grips his shoulder.

Eames's hands move again, holding first one of Arthur's feet and then the other.

Arthur smiles, and he makes sure to turn his face towards Eames so he can see the deep crinkle-lines around his eyes.

He hears Eames sigh and he looks back over his shoulder to find him straddling his hips, warmth bracketing him and then - oh - Eames is resting his forehead on his shoulder blade.

"Ohgodyes," Arthur murmurs, hand flailing out and he feels Eames capture his wrist. "It's okay, touch me, let me touch you."

And his hand is being guided - to the top of Eames's head. He runs his fingers through his lover's hair, scratches his forehead very gently.

Eames sighs, and suddenly he's gone and Arthur would complain but Eames is stretching out next to him. His hand creeps back toward Arthur's hip.

Arthur hoists himself onto his elbows and leans over Eames, kisses him and Eames opens for him, and that's all he wants for the next few minutes and he does his best to steal his partner's breath clear away and Eames is shaking beneath Arthur when he lets him go.

"I'm going to kiss you again," Arthur says, hoarsely, "on one condition."

"Yes."

And Arthur takes Eames's free hand and puts it on the back of his own head. "Keep that there."

Eames nods.

Arthur kisses him again, makes sure he's leaning into the hand in his hair, cups his own hands around Eames's face.

This time, they're both gasping for breath when they break the kiss.

Arthur smiles, says, "Keep your eyes open," and then he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Eames's.

After a long moment Eames's hands move again, pull Arthur in close. One arm wrapped around his waist, the other around his shoulder, and that hand is still cradling the back of Arthur's head.

"I'm starting to see why you like this so much," Eames mutters after a long moment. "You feel good like this."

"Now you know why," Arthur says, and settles in, and he closes his eyes and lays his cheek against Eames's collarbone.  



End file.
